


all in this together

by dicaeopolis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, growing and changing, title from you know where
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 08:53:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11688249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicaeopolis/pseuds/dicaeopolis
Summary: The transition to university volleyball could've gone a little more smoothly.





	all in this together

**Author's Note:**

> for the Farewell Zine, a zine about the third years leaving organized by the wondrous Amber and CC! sometimes growing up means learning how to change.
> 
> thank you to [betsy](http://www.twitter.com/owlinaminor), who betaed and also i love her
> 
> on [twitter](https://twitter.com/dickaeopolis/status/892853641559777280) and [tumblr](http://vivasimplemindedness.tumblr.com/post/163727836073/all-in-this-together)

_ Hiking _ wasn’t what Daichi would’ve chosen for a team-building activity. In his opinion, sending a bunch of stressed nineteen-year-olds into the forest together to bond for a day could just as easily end in them hiding a body. But their captain had gathered the five first-years together after practice on Friday, with his arms crossed over his chest and a stern expression that reminded Daichi unnervingly of the mirror, and told them that they were going to go into the woods together the next day and they weren’t allowed to come back until they could get along.

Oikawa had raised his hand. “Sorry, but I actually have to go to a-”

“No, you don’t,” the captain had cut him off.

And so here they were, eating their bentos in a circle on Ushijima’s red-and-white checkered picnic blanket. The midday sun was uncomfortably hot on the back of Daichi’s neck, and the sullen silence of the group was worse.

On the way up the trail, Daichi had occupied himself with reading the map and reminding everyone to drink their water. Oikawa had sulked silently, Ushijima was unreadable as ever, and Bokuto and Kuroo had talked in low voices at the back of the group, with loosely-linked hands swinging between them. But gradually, even they had fallen quiet. The only noise now was periodic  _ smacks _ as Oikawa swatted at the mosquitos swarming around him.

* * *

_ “Uh, yeah, it’s going pretty well.” Daichi tucked his phone between his ear and shoulder as he sat down at the table by the window of the crowded dining hall. “Small room. Nice roommate. Classes seem manageable. How’s practice?” _

_ Ennoshita’s chuckle was electronically distorted through the phone. “We have a first-year from Chidoriyama who’s following Tsukishima around like a baby duck.” _

_ That surprised a laugh out of Daichi. “What? How does he feel about that?” _

_ “He was pretty taken aback at first. I think now he’s getting emotional about it.” _

_ “Pffft.” Daichi swallowed his mouthful of rice and continued, “I meant to mention to you, don’t let Yachi work herself to death this year - I know Hinata and Kageyama need her help to pass English, but she’s got a lot on her shoulders. And make sure to warn the new first-years that the club room lock is fussy. Oh, and-” _

_ “Sawamura-san,” Ennoshita interrupted. (The name sat strangely in his voice - Ennoshita had called him  _ senpai _ for as long as Daichi could remember.) “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be just fine.” _

_ Daichi rolled his eyes. As if he ever  _ wouldn’t _ worry. _

_ “How about your own practice?” Ennoshita asked. Daichi stilled. “You’re on the same team as Oikawa and Ushijima now, right?” _

_ “Uh huh.” Daichi took another bite of rice, slower. “Kuroo and Bokuto ended up here, too.” _

_ Ennoshita whistled. “How’s that playing out?” _

_ “Um…” _

* * *

“Alright,” said Daichi finally, desperate to break the silence. “How about we start by saying what we want to change?”

“I’d like to fix Bokuto’s dye job,” Kuroo offered, after a brief pause. Nobody laughed.

“You’re no help,” Daichi muttered. “I’d like to focus on technical improvements, rather than conflict.”

“I would prefer tosses that are easier to hit,” Ushijima volunteered.

The corner of Kuroo’s mouth quirked. “I’d like Oikawa to send Ushijima tosses that are easier to hit.”

“I’d like Kuroo-chan to shut the hell up,” Oikawa spat. Kuroo just smirked back at him.

Daichi turned to look at Bokuto, but he was hunched over, staring at the pattern of the picnic blanket. He’d been in the dumps all week, and Daichi sincerely doubted his own ability to lift such complex spirits.

He sighed. Oikawa slapped another mosquito, with vicious vindictiveness.

* * *

_ Oikawa hadn’t said anything yet, besides introducing himself to their new teammates with a bright smile. But Daichi had spent enough time around the guy to recognize his smile tightening when the first-year at the end of their row introduced himself in a deep baritone: “Ushijima Wakatoshi. Shiratorizawa High. Spiker.” _

_ He’d also spent enough time around Kuroo to feel dread when, after practice (tougher drills than Daichi had ever practiced in his life, plus an uneventful mixed-team scrimmage at the end), Kuroo slid up next to Oikawa and Ushijima at their lockers. “So, you two know each other?” _

_ “We played each other several times in high school,” Ushijima told him. “Shiratorizawa won all of them.” _

_ Oikawa’s locker door slammed shut. _

_ “Oh?” Kuroo’s smirk oozed across his face like a slime mold. “And how did you feel about that, Ushijima?” _

_ “Well, it’s only logical,” Ushijima said. Daichi’s heart dropped into his gut. “Oikawa really should have come to-” _

_ The rest of his sentence was cut off by Oikawa’s screech of fury. _

* * *

“Then… Can we at least talk about why we aren’t, uh - why the past month has been-”

“We could do some trust falls,” Kuroo spoke up, dripping sarcasm.

_ “Kuroo-” _

“Sawamura, you don’t need to do this,” Oikawa told the picnic blanket.

_ “Someone  _ has to,” Daichi retorted, sharper than he intended.

* * *

_ “I need my toss a little lower,” Ushijima instructed Oikawa, midway through a spiking practice that could be called mediocre at best. _

_ Daichi winced. Across the gym, balls stopped flying across the court from Kuroo’s jump-serve practice.  _

_ Ushijima didn’t seem to notice. He jogged back to the line, preparing for another run-up and waiting for Oikawa to toss the ball in the air. _

_ “What did you say?” Oikawa asked, with a voice like barbed wire. _

_ “I need my toss a little lower,” Ushijima repeated. _

_ “Are you saying that’s the highest you can jump?” Oikawa planted a hand on his hip. “Because I don’t think-” _

_ “Alright,” Daichi cut in, jogging over towards the pair of them. “Ushijima’s jumps are high already - Oikawa, could you try suiting your toss to him?” _

_ Oikawa’s eyes flashed. “We aren’t going to win games like that.” _

_ “I am jumping as high as I can,” Ushijima said. Oikawa hissed out wordless frustration and threw the ball in his hands down to the floor. Across the gym, the captain glanced over at the noise. _

_ Daichi rubbed the back of his neck, turning to Ushijima. “Do you think you could jump higher, to meet his tosses?” _

_ Ushijima’s brow furrowed for a moment, and then he repeated, “I am jumping as high as I can-” _

_ “Then find yourself another setter,” Oikawa snarled, and stalked off towards Bokuto. _

* * *

“Have you  _ seen _ him on the court?” Oikawa bit out. “He treats me like a  _ tool.” _

“He’s got a point,” Kuroo put in.

“You’re  _ really _ not helping,” Daichi gritted out. To Oikawa, he said, “Isn’t it futile to not send him the tosses he wants? Our offense is suffering without his firepower.”

“You are my setter,” Ushijima told Oikawa. “Assisting a spiker is your function.”

_ "See!” _ Oikawa snapped, still refusing to meet Ushijima’s eyes. “He expects me to be his  _ dog.” _

“He can’t-”

“He  _ can _ jump higher than that,” Oikawa insisted. He smacked another mosquito off his kneecap.

Daichi sighed. “Look… Can’t you just set a little lower? Nobody could ever stop one of his spikes, anyway.”

_ “Nobody?” _ Oikawa retorted. “Not a  _ single _ blocker who could do it? Cause I’m pretty sure  _ this _ guy-” he jerked his head towards Kuroo- “ _ trained _ one. In, like, three days.” Despite the tension, pride sparked in Daichi at the mention of his kouhai.  _ Former _ kouhai.

“Statistically, Ushijima is far more likely to succeed than fail,” Kuroo pointed out - his first useful contribution all day. All  _ month, _ really. “And you can’t just rely on Bokuto all the time.”

Four sets of eyes all darted to Bokuto, who was still hunched over and silent next to Kuroo, and then bounced away from him just as quickly.

* * *

_ It was tradition, the captain explained to them. The first practice match of the season was against their nearest friendly rivals. First-years versus first-years, so both teams could test out their new blood. _

_ And so the senpais of both teams watched from the front row of otherwise-empty bleachers as Oikawa sent toss after toss to Bokuto. Kuroo and Daichi got some hits in too, but Ushijima was stuck to the ground, heavy and powerless. Their coach called their first time out at 15-11, opponents’ favor. _

_ “Well, I don’t know what’s up with you two, Ushijima and Oikawa.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “But whatever it is, sort it out. We can’t play with that kind of handicap.” _

_ Oikawa glared at the floor. _

_ “In the meantime,” the coach continued, “ease off on Bokuto. He needs to be able to make it through the match-” _

_ "I can handle it!” Bokuto interrupted. He set his water bottle down on the bench, with more force than was necessary, and strode back towards the court, tossing a “let’s get on with it” over his shoulder. _

_ “Great,” Kuroo and Daichi sighed, in perfect unison. _

_ Oikawa frowned after Bokuto, and then turned his piercing stare on Kuroo and Daichi. “You two know something.” _

_ “Ah…” Kuroo waved a vague hand. “He gets moods, sometimes…” _

_ “Really bad moods,” Daichi elaborated. “It’s actually pretty convenient, if you’re playing against him.” _

_ “So he’s got himself down in the dumps.” Oikawa studied the pair of them. “And now…?” _

_ “Well,” Kuroo muttered. “Either he rallies himself, or…” _

_ Fortunately, it was Oikawa’s serve. The opponents picked it up, but just barely - it bounced back over the net, a free ball for Kuroo’s receive. Oikawa was already in place to set, Bokuto beginning his run-up. Daichi let himself imagine, just for a second, that their teamwork was always this smooth. _

_ “Bokuto!” Oikawa called. Ushijima jumped for the decoy, and on the back line, Daichi slid into position for block-follow, watching the ball touch off Oikawa’s fingertips. Bokuto bent his knees - sprang up from the floor of the court - and for a moment, he was caught in midair, golden and powerful. _

_ And then the smack of his hand on the ball sent it spinning well past the opponents’ out line. _

_ Bokuto’s face crumpled. _

_ They lost the practice match, straight-set. _

* * *

“Well, it’s not  _ his _ fault,” Oikawa muttered. “At least  _ he’s _ playing for the team, instead of himself.”

“Oh?” Kuroo spoke up, tone as casual as his eyes were dangerous. “And you’re  _ so _ innocent? We all know that this team could be champions with you as a control tower, but you’re so hung up on your grudges that you won’t even set for your ace-”

_ “Kuroo-” _ Daichi warned.

_ “Would you cut your bullshit for once!” _ Oikawa rounded on Kuroo. “As if you haven’t been digging under everyone’s skin since our first practice - what happened to  _ let the brain function normally, _ or does that only apply if the brain is  _ Kozume Kenma-” _

“Oh, shut  _ up!” _

The shout rang through the forest around them. Bokuto had leapt to his feet, fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides. His face looked worn, like he hadn’t been sleeping.

“Can you guys just  _ shut up,” _ he repeated, in a quieter voice. He swiped an angry palm over his eyes, and the sun shone hot overhead.

* * *

_ Daichi had seen Bokuto’s lows on the court before, but it was a hundred times worse from the same side of the net. _

_ His moods careened wildly between rattling, manic intensity and depression as grey and slow-moving as half-mixed cement. Half his spikes didn’t even make it in-bounds - after a disastrous Monday, he didn’t show up on Tuesday or Wednesday. Thursday wasn’t much of an improvement. _

_ In the locker room afterwards, Oikawa watched him head for the showers, fingers twitchy and eyes darting around him, and then turned to Kuroo. “You should do something about that.” _

_ “What?” Kuroo looked up. “Why don’t you?” _

_ “I’m not  _ dating _ him. And  _ someone _ has to make sure we have at least one functional spiker on the court.” _

_ Kuroo leaned against the locker next to his. “I love the guy, but his moods are still pretty inscrutable to me.” _

_ Oikawa sighed. “Then we’re screwed.” _

_ “That’s a little melodramatic,” Kuroo observed. _

_ Oikawa shook his head. “No, it’s not. Practice wasn’t fun before, but without him, it’s a nightmare.” _

_ Daichi nodded in agreement. “When Bokuto’s on his game, he makes everyone on the court smile. But when he’s not…” _

_ Oikawa frowned. “What did Fukurodani do? They couldn’t possibly have just picked up the pieces after him for three years straight.” _

_ Daichi didn’t answer. Kuroo studied the inside of his locker. _

_ “…They - they  _ didn’t, _ did they?” _

* * *

To his credit, Bokuto’s interjection did its job - both Oikawa and Kuroo  _ did _ fall silent, staring up at him. Daichi watched Ushijima pick methodically at his picnic blanket.

“This sucks,” Bokuto muttered, and then looked up from the ground, voice rising rapidly. “This  _ sucks! _ If we’re all miserable when we play, then what is the  _ damn _ point! I never even  _ liked _ volleyball til my third year, and now I can’t even remember  _ how _ to play - I, I mean, I know how to spike and serve and everything, but - but - but - I always get caught up in my head and without my team I can’t get out and-”

“We  _ are _ your team now, Bokuto,” Daichi cut him off. “We don’t know you as well as Fukurodani did, but we still-”

_ “You aren’t!” _ Bokuto stamped a foot, frustration written all over his face. “Not when you all hate each other! Don’t we  _ want _ to be a team?”

“Well, it’s pretty hard to get there when Oikawa and Ushijima are-” Kuroo began.

_ “Kuroo.” _ And Kuroo fell silent at the force of the accusation. Bokuto turned his stare on his boyfriend, eyes wide with hurt. “Babe. I love you, but you aren’t even  _ trying.” _ Kuroo’s mouth opened, and then shut. Bokuto sighed and sat down again. “I  _ know _ you can fix things like this when you take it seriously. We did it with Tsukki, remember? But you aren’t trying at  _ all. _ And hey - Sawamura! For god’s sake, you don’t have to be everyone’s dad all the time. Sometimes we gotta fight. Sometimes Oikawa and Ushijima have to piss each other off! It’s cool. They gotta learn.”

“I don’t piss Oikawa off,” Ushijima put in, to general eye-rolling.

“Oh,  _ yeah!” _ Bokuto whirled around to point an accusatory finger at him. _ “Ushijima!” _

Surprise flitted around the circle. If there was anything they all agreed on, it was that Ushijima was the one  _ least _ at fault here. “Yes?”

"Just because you’re strong doesn’t mean you can be  _ selfish.” _

“I’m-”

But Bokuto was gaining steam again. “Oikawa is the best setter anyone could ask for!” Oikawa sat up a little straighter, but didn’t stop scratching vehemently at a mosquito bite on his knee. “And you didn’t even  _ try _ to take his advice! That’s what teammates are  _ for _ \- they help you get better! They help you grow and change-”

“I-”

“And even if you’re good, you’re  _ never  _ going to get better if you act like-” Bokuto’s voice cracked, shook- “like you don’t n-need anyone else-”

“I miss Shiratorizawa,” Ushijima interrupted, blunt as ever.

The circle fell silent.

“My teammates,” Ushijima continued, “were always there behind me. I never doubted that they would give all they had to help me score. My trust in them never wavered, and neither did theirs in me.”

Bokuto shuddered once, twice, again. His voice was thick as he responded, “When I freaked out, back at Fukurodani, I never had to worry about it. No matter how bad I got. Cause I knew they’d take care of - I knew we still wouldn’t -  _ shit-” _

Kuroo slung an arm across Bokuto’s trembling shoulders, roughly palmed a ruffle into the back of his head. Bokuto wiped his nose on Kuroo’s sleeve, and then turned his wet stare on Oikawa. “And you - don’t you miss Aoba Johsai?”

“Every day,” Oikawa whispered.

Kuroo nodded, murmuring an echo -  _ every day. _ Bokuto sagged against him, and Kuroo raised an eyebrow at Daichi. “Not you, though, Sawamura?”

“Do you really need to ask?” said Daichi.

The words were rawer and heavier than he had intended.

Karasuno’s absence  _ ached. _ It ached every time Kageyama and Hinata’s nonsensical bickering was replaced by Kuroo’s biting jibes and Oikawa’s prickly rejoinders. It ached every time tension knocked Oikawa’s toss and Ushijima’s spike out of sync, and every time Bokuto slumped away from a spike that Asahi would’ve slammed home with an ace’s reliability. It ached whenever Daichi’s instincts looked to Nishinoya for a receive, or Tanaka for a noisy cheer, or Kiyoko for a serene, knowing smile.

“…Sorry,” Kuroo murmured, honestly abashed.

Daichi shifted. “It’s - it’s alright. I was a good captain.” It wasn’t a boast, just a simple truth. “But there’s no one right way to build a team.”

Bokuto’s smile was a little wavery. “Well, I guess we all gotta grow up sometime.”

“Bokuto,” said Ushijima. “I have something to say to you, too.”

“Yeah, bro?”

“We need you.” Ushijima folded his hands in his lap, simple and plain. “This team cannot afford to lose your strength in a match. You cannot fall apart.”

“I-” Bokuto chewed on his lip, but he didn’t look anywhere near as low as Daichi had seen him in the past weeks. “Yeah.” He exhaled a huge sigh, and then sat up from his lean against Kuroo’s chest. “You’re right. Shit. You’re right.” He nudged Ushijima’s shoulder with a rueful grin. “I’ve got a lot to learn, huh?”

“You do,” Ushijima agreed. Bokuto threw his head back to laugh at the gentle insult. “But we are a team now. And I think that I do, as well.”

_ “Whaaaaaat?” _ Oikawa cried, throwing his hands out to either side. Kuroo snorted at the dramatics. “The great  _ Ushiwaka-chan, _ admitting his  _ many _ character flaws-”

“-I would like to improve the angle of my crosses,” Ushijiima mused, studiously examining the grass.

Kuroo started cackling. Daichi regarded his teammates with fond amusement. Oikawa attempted valiantly to sulk, but he couldn’t restrain the twitch of his lips - especially when Ushijima looked up from the grass to meet his gaze. “Oikawa.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes.

“My strength is at your disposal.”

Between them, the air hung frozen, unbreathing-

And then  _ crackled, _ electricity racing along a wire, as Oikawa’s frown snapped up into a smirk.

“Then you’d better start using it to jump higher,  _ Wakkun,” _

Daichi’s hunched shoulders sank about six inches with relief.  _ The nickname. He upgraded the nickname. _

And now that he noticed, it was actually a pretty beautiful day out.

He said as much, and five faces turned to the sky, staring up into warm sunshine and bright blue. Across the circle, Bokuto leaned into Kuroo’s shoulder, and Kuroo turned to press his face briefly against Bokuto’s spiky hair. On the grass between them, their fingers were tangled together.

“Alright,” said Oikawa, “well, now that that’s settled, let’s get out of here. These bugs are eating me alive-”

“I brought bug spray,” Ushijima announced.

Oikawa went still as death.

Ushijima calmly unzipped his bag and pulled out a small orange bottle, offering it to Oikawa. “It has one hundred percent DEET.”

Oikawa slapped another mosquito off his arm, slow and deliberate. His smile was poisonous. “And you didn’t say you had this earlier…because…?”

Ushijima blinked, eyes large and brown like a cow. “You didn’t ask.”

They stared at each other for a moment, silence sharp and icy and fragile.

And then there was a desperate snort.

Four sets of eyes snapped to Kuroo, whose cheeks looked about ready to burst with amusement. “Pfff - sorry, sorry, it’s just - it’s cause you wear all that perfumey shit, the bugs love it-”

“I smell  _ nice!” _ Oikawa protested, voice rising, even as an irrepressible smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. 

“You smell like a fruit!” Bokuto added, and then he was laughing too, loud and carefree, and Oikawa was giggling and Daichi’s shoulders felt about six hundred pounds lighter. “Like, six fruits!”

A quiet, deep chuckle interrupted the rest of the group, and Bokuto cried out in delight at the sight of Ushijima Wakatoshi  _ smiling _ \- a small smile, yes, but warm as the sunlight through the trees.

“Now that’s just adorable,” Kuroo commented.

_ “Whatever,” _ Oikawa snipped, with less than half a pretense of heat.

“Oh,” said Ushijima, as Bokuto’s flying tackle-hug knocked him back onto the grass. “Okay.” He patted Bokuto’s back awkwardly, then sat up and gently pushed him out of his lap. “Okay. Alright.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Kuroo agreed. He hopped to his feet and offered a hand to Oikawa, who accepted it and pulled himself up to stand. “C’mon, guys. Let’s go home.”

On the trail back down the mountain, Oikawa joined Daichi at the front of the group to hash out some minutiae of their training camp schedule. Further back, a concern had occurred to Bokuto. “Hey, Ushiwaka.” Ushijima tilted his head in response. “I want you to know - just cause I’m trying to help you improve, doesn’t mean I’m giving up. I’m gonna be the ace when we’re third-years, just you wait.”

“Good luck,” said Ushijima.

“Ushijima  _ is _ stronger than you, though,” Kuroo put in, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“What -  _ no! _ Look, he might be taller, and have thicker thighs, and longer arms, but - okay, I bet I have better abs!” Bokuto pulled up his shirt, watching carefully as Ushijima did the same, and then cried out in distress at the contrast between Ushijima’s tanned washboard and his own layer of soft chub.

Kuroo snickered. “Sorry, bro. Ushijima’s just a superhuman.”

“Bokuto’s biceps are still better, though,” Oikawa tossed back over his shoulder.

Kuroo smirked up at him. “Been looking?”

“Oh, yes.”

The drive back to the university passed noisily, with Bokuto howling along to the radio and Ushjima reading out wildly incorrect directions in a solemn voice until Daichi caught on and Kuroo started wheezing with laughter. When they piled out of Daichi’s car, back on campus, Oikawa turned towards the dorms. Bokuto paused, staring in the other direction - towards the gym where the volleyball club practiced.

“Ushijima,” he said, headlight-yellow eyes fixed on the gym’s dark windows. “Do you want to go practice?”

“Of course,” Ushijima answered instantly.

Bokuto pumped a fist in victory, and then rounded on their setter. “Oikawa! Come toss for us!”

Oikawa gracefully squawked as Bokuto latched onto his arm and tugged him off. “Alright - _ alright, I’m coming, this is unnecessary-” _

Daichi watched them go with a fond smile, and then turned to Kuroo, who was watching him with a small grin and his hands jammed into the pockets of his skinny jeans. “That went… Better than I expected it to.”

“Same,” Kuroo agreed. “You heading back to your dorm now?”

“Library, actually. I have a paper to finish.”

“Wild Saturday night, huh, Sawamura?”

“You’re going to go do chem right now and we both know it,” Daichi muttered, and Kuroo cackled.

They both paused.

And then Kuroo extracted a hand from his pocket and extended it towards Daichi. “So… Friends?”

“Better than that.” Daichi’s eyes glinted as he accepted the handshake.  _ “Teammates.” _

He still squeezed tight enough to hear Kuroo’s knuckles crack before releasing him, though. Old habits did die hard.

Making new ones, though - that, Daichi figured he could handle.

**Author's Note:**

> Betsy Ladyzhets  
> 12:17 PM Jul 2  
> ushijima's like a tree. a tree with abs.
> 
> Becky Rudolph  
> 8:02 PM Jul 3  
> How am I supposed to post this fic anywhere when your simile game in this comment beat all my literary shit into the ground


End file.
